


o' captain, my captain

by Laurelgand



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, GreedFall Spoilers, I stole like 2 lines from his canon dialogue but thats it, Lady De Sardet, Look this is just Porn with Feelings my guy, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but the porn is done first so here y'all are, minor one for Vasco's personal quests and a little main plot, this is probably going to be part of like a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-12-01 20:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20886092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurelgand/pseuds/Laurelgand
Summary: 'He nibbled on her lower lip, pulling it as he pulled away, but then he kissed her again, mouth greedier, and her eyes closed as she kissed him back fiercely. Her hands fisted into his leather coat and he broke their kiss. “You cannot imagine how long I have wanted for this.” He whispered, sparse inches from her lips, and she laughed breathlessly.“I may have an idea.” She replied and toyed with a buckle on his front coat. “But to see what I have wanted, we need to reach my bed.” He needed little incentive after that and they broke apart, her mouth tingling, and his chuckling.'I have a new OTP and nothing can stop me; just take this from me and Go





	o' captain, my captain

**Author's Note:**

> look this is just unedited, self-indulgent filth and i'm not sorry. i haven't posted a fic in like two years so i am sorry for errors. enjoy!

Eloise sipped at the wine Vasco had brought her, his good cheer at having earned his admiral’s trust back almost palpable. He was often a serious man, not prone to laughter or flights of fancy. He was steadfast as the earth and daring as the sea. There was a temper hidden beneath that all, too, but he kept it well-hidden and others safe from it. It rarely made an appearance unless his family was being threatened. He was moving between tables, having left her to her own devices, and she almost did not notice the Naut that approached her empty table, but the stench of stale alcohol reached her before the man did.

She was dressed in no noble clothing, no plush quilted armor or soft silks. She had worn a simple white cotton blouse, v-necked and collared, with belted, high-waisted leather trousers and tall, thigh high cuisses. A deep blue sash was bound around her waist, a long trail of it coming from the complex knot Vasco had tied into it before they had left for the coin tavern. Her ash blonde hair was lose and soft and spilled around her shoulders like a curtain of silk. The man settled in the chair across from her, squinting softly, no doubt trying to place her face.

“I don’t recognize you, lass.” He finally settled on, voice slurred just a bit. “Haven’t seen you ‘round the tavern ‘fore.”

“You would not have.” She said simply, draining the wine in her glass. “I tend not to spend my time drinking.” Vasco had convinced her to come out, insisting he treat her as she had treated him at the palace, and as thanks for helping him as much as she did. She had, of course, come. Eloise was unable to deny him anything; her heart was his, even if he seemed not to notice. But there was something there, the memory of his lips on her neck from weeks ago, and the gentle hand on her thigh during supper a few nights ago. “But you came here for a reason, did you not?”

“Aye!” he leaned in, lips stretched into a grin. “I thought you looked lonely all by yourself over here. Maybe I could remedy that?” she might have laughed if it would not have encouraged him to further proposition her. She took note of his tattoos; he was a Naut, though not particularly high ranked, and she thought he might have been part of Vasco’s crew, now that he had it back, and she shook her head, setting the glass down. How to reject him and not garner an angry reaction? In the end, however, she need not have said anything. The familiar presence of Vasco arrived behind her. She had grown used to him, enough so that her magic could pick up on his location if he was near to her. He curled one hand around the arch of her chair.

“She’s _not_ here by herself. Shove off.” Vasco nearly growled, and the man paled considerably, sobering up rather quickly for as drunk as he had been for a moment. Her lips curled into a satisfied grin. If all it took to grab his attention was a drunkard tossing himself at her, she might have to spend more time in seedy inns. Sometimes he was flirtatious, even downright affectionate, but other times he was distant, stern, and she loathed his mixed signals.

“Captain!” he squeaked, more mouse than man now, and he shot up from the chair, rigid as a wooden beam. “I hadn’t—I didn’t—Excuse me, sir, please. No offense meant, I swear it.” Vasco leveled a glare at him, one that held authority and righteousness in it, but he only sighed after a tense moment.

“Then prove it and join your fellows. Lady de Sardet is off-limits.” Vasco stood taller. “You’re dismissed, sailor.” The man nodded and all but fled with his tail between his legs. Eloise laughed softly, amused by Vasco’s display. He rarely tossed around his rank, despite the places it could get him, and he was forgiving to his crew once he had given a stern talking to, but everything seemed different when it came to her. Perhaps he was a naturally jealous man, a coveter of what he decided was his; a small, wicked part of her was glad for his possessiveness, wanting to be wanted by him, and she looked up at him.

“Are your men always so eager in port?” she asked, half-amused and half intrigued by his intense demeanor. She gave nothing away, of course; she was simply pressing on this spot that seemed to rile him up, to her benefit if luck held out. Vasco was not prone to moods like this one, or many moods at all.

“Unfortunately. We’ve never had any problems before though. I do not doubt he would have left had you told him to.” He admitted, moving into the chair that had just been vacated. His tone was a bit regretful. “But he should have known better.” His skin was freshly tattooed, a twin pair of curved and lined etchings into the story of his life, along his cheekbones and under his eyes. The swelling was gone and redness fading courtesy of her healing magic in battle the morning following his work. The last few weeks had been filled with tension and lingering touches, but never a moment alone.

“Should he have?” Eloise asked, and he let his gaze bore into hers. “You have your ship back, your crew. The sea is calling you, I know that. Does that mean you will be leaving soon?” _leaving her_, a small voice said, and she smothered it cruelly. They had fought to get him his place in his family back, and she would not keep him from it if he wanted to go now. She could not follow, not with so much left to do, and she did not know if she could let them be more if he would be gone so soon. She needed to know. “It is your home, after all.”

Vasco was silent for a moment, “Yes, eventually. The sea _is_ my home. But do not worry, I will not leave you until I see where our story leads.” She laid her hands on the table, palms up, and he reached forward to grab them. Eloise curled their fingers together and felt a rush of warmth. He would stay, for her, and it meant more to than words could ever say. She squeezed his hands, wanting nothing more in the world than for him to take her into his arms.

“When this is all over, when I am _free_, I hope that I will get to sail with you again.” Her words were among the rawest truths she had, how she wanted nothing for than to be with him. Damn her nobility, damn her titles, and damn her duty! She would sail the world with him, she would _love_ him, and be content. But she could not abandon Constantin. Not even for love. Not until she found a cure.

“I hope for that too, Eloise. To be truthful, I’d rather not leave these shores without you.” There was honesty in his voice, a truth that had long been pushed down, and she smiled, tender and hopeful, and so much more vulnerable than she had ever been with someone.

“Would you walk me home, Vasco?” she asked softly, speaking quicker than her bold thought could be brushed away. He cared for her, and she was sure she loved him, and she had wanted him before that. His face was alight with shock for a moment, and then surety. Vasco nodded and stood, letting only one of her hands go, and they made for the door as unobvious as they could be. The door was ajar already, the hour late enough that pissed patrons could stumble in and out, and they pushed through easily without anyone seeing them. They were not worried about people seeing them, exactly, only delaying them.

Eloise had wanted him in her bed not long after meeting him; he had been ordering his crew to retie a knot and he demonstrated for them, deft hands nimble and strong. His hands had been fascinating. He was good with them, and with his crew. She can remember how she had thought she wanted him to let those deft hands work on her, and she tugged gently on his hand, trying to lead him to her home. 

“Hold on,” he said and tugged her instead, harder, and she stepped closer to him as he so obviously wanted. His free hand reached to her jaw and tilted her face up, eyes searching her face, pale eyes deep as the ocean; Vasco kissed her, suddenly and deeply, and a coil of hot tension smoldered in her lower belly—it was everything and more than she had hoped for, and she could not help the moan that fell from her lips, lost to his mouth. She had wanted and _wanted_ and all her tension turned to friction and then burst into flames.

He nibbled on her lower lip, pulling it as he pulled away, but then he kissed her again, mouth greedier, and her eyes closed as she kissed him back fiercely. Her hands fisted into his leather coat and he broke their kiss. “You cannot imagine how long I have wanted for this.” He whispered, sparse inches from her lips, and she laughed breathlessly.

“I may have an idea.” She replied and toyed with a buckle on his front coat. “But to see what I have wanted, we need to reach my bed.” He needed little incentive after that and they broke apart, her mouth tingling, and his chuckling. They almost raced through the streets, quiet as ghosts and like shadows in the night, but she could only hope the night would be the start of something new. She felt younger than she had in what seemed like years, smothered beneath the burden of duty.

They reached the tall green door of her home much more quickly than she thought they would and she hurried to unlock it, making a soft, shuddering sound as he kissed at her neck, teeth nipping playfully. “Are you not motivated enough to work faster?” he asked, tone teasing, and one of his hand splayed over her abdomen, fingers stroking, and she thanked whatever gods existed when the door clicked and she swung it open. They hurried inside; she locked and latched it behind her. Her heart was racing, the blood rushing in her ears, and she panted softly from their run. Vasco was behind her, still, and she grinned, feeling playful.

Eloise bolted for the staircase, giggling a bit as she made it to the landing even before she heard Vasco’s footfalls follow her. She burst into her darkened room and turned to face the door, waiting for Vasco to step through it. And he did indeed, loping into the room slowly, cautiously, and she turned on a single oil lamp beside her. It set a soft glow to the room and she beckoned him over with a crooked finger. “Come here, Vasco.” He obeyed and she leaned up to kiss him herself, his hands grasping at her waist and outer left thigh.

Her own hands occupied themselves with working on the buckles and straps of his armor, shucking off pieces of leather from his body; she opened his coat and sighed into his mouth, hands roaming over his chest, just a thin undershirt keeping his skin from her, and he released her for a moment to pull off his gloves, achingly slow, and let his coat glide off. He was all wiry, lean muscle and softly sun kissed flesh; she popped the buttons on his shirt and she was pleased to find that his tattoos spread down his neck, chest, ribs, shoulders, and perhaps even further. They were blue-black and exceedingly complicated, a story written on his body in a language she did not yet know, but hoped she would one day.

She ran kisses down his jawline, and he undid the belt at her waist with a fluid, practiced movement. He tossed it and tugged her blouse from her trousers; his slid a hand up under her shirt to touch her soft, warm skin. He stopped just short of her brassiere, hand moving around her ribs instead, fingers running over each one with a reverent sort of care that took her breath away. She tugged on his earlobe with her teeth teasingly, and he grasped her tightly, an almost imperceptible sound falling past his lips. His touch sent shivers down her body, she could feel his hands long after they had left their spot and moved to the next.

“Might I take your shirt?” He asked lightly, almost breathless, and she nodded; he started on the buttons eagerly, each one revealing more skin to his hungry eyes, and he let his hands roam up and over. It was slid off her shoulders to join his coat, and soon his shirt was atop the pile too. He stared at her, and she had to fight a surge of self-consciousness that swelled up in her. But he only tugged her close, their skin pressing together, and he shivered. “You are unreal, Eloise. Like I’ll wake in a cold sweat, alone in my bunk, at any moment.” He whispered, hand sliding up her back to undo the laces on her brassiere. It came loose after a moment, his clever fingers obviously practiced, and her face flushed hot. She was bare from her waist up and so was he.

Eloise arched against his body, her breasts sliding against his tattooed chest, and they stayed like that for a moment, breathing each other in, skin to skin. She had never felt so close to anyone before; Eloise knew that the man before her would do anything she asked, and she slid her arms around his neck, stretching upwards. “_Vasco,_” she whispered softly, beseechingly, and he bent to brush their noses together. She followed the affectionate movement and smiled, their lips a hairsbreadth away. He kissed her again, deeply and thoroughly. His tongue conquered her mouth, his kiss stealing all coherent thought from her brain for a moment.

Eloise’s hands moved from his neck to his hips, unbuckling his belt and then moving on to his trouser buttons. She slid her hand past the leather of his pants and found the outline of his cock. He was thick, not quite hard, and she stroked him through the fabric of his smalls. Vasco groaned into her mouth and then pulled away, “Minx.” She laughed; he kissed her neck, teeth nipping at her pulse, and she fought a gasp. “Tell me what you want.” He said against her skin. She grasped his cock gently, teasingly.

“I would like your trousers off for one.” Eloise said, humor bleeding into her tone at his demand. She pushed him back a little, his gaze now dragging over her exposed flesh. “And when you are naked, I want you to sit on the edge of my bed and wait for me to do as I wish.” She was used to power to control, and things might have been different if they were aboard his ship, out to sea. But they were in her city, in her territory, and she wanted him exactly the way she wanted. Here, she was Legate, and she ceded to no one. “I have had some time to think of what I want from you, and I am afraid it’s quite the list.”

To his credit, Vasco only looked at her with sharp interest, unbridled lust, and a fondness she could not help but cherish in the moment. She watched him was he took off his boots, bending to undo the laces, and then shucking off his trousers and smalls all at once. The tattoos stretched all the way down his body, tracing the contours of his muscles, the shadows of his scars. From his collarbone to his pubic bone was beautifully marked, swirls and harsh lines. The planes of his arms, his hips, his thighs, to his knees and up his back until they sloped over his shoulders and curled into the marks on this neck and face. He sat on the bed, as she had wished, and his eyes burned in the lamplight. “I hope you’ll not mind if I’ve a few wants of my own.”

Eloise undid the half dozen buttons keeping her trousers up and closed. “We have all night. I imagine we can squeeze them in.” She shed her own boots, making a bit of a show of undoing the laces exceedingly slowly, and peeled away her trousers; her smalls joined a moment later, but she did not approach him yet. She knew he was watching her as she was watching him, eyes dragging up every curve of her body and drinking in her very presence. He was a sight himself, confident and relaxed, legs spread slightly, and she padded toward him. “Tell me,” she said softly, bending to lay her hands on his knees, “When was the first time you imagined something like this between us?”

Vasco leaned forward a little, breath ghosting over her throat, “Near the end of the first week aboard my ship, on the journey here.” She had thought of him just as early, lust at first, and then more as she grew to know him. On the ship, he was her escort and the Captain of the vessel she lived on for months. It would have been untoward, inappropriate, for her to have approached him then. Under her employ, his admiral wanting her family pleased, he would have had little room to deny her if he wished to. She used his thighs to steady herself as she kneeled on the floor. Vasco’s breath hitched, and she hummed. “I dreamed of you.” He offered with no further encouragement of her own, and she pressed her lips to his shoulder.

“And what did this dream-me do?” she asked, moving her mouth along his collar bone. Her hands stroked the tops of his thighs slowly, fingers pressing in just the slightest bit. “I would quite like to outdo her, if you understand. Have to be better than you can even hope for.”

“You already are.” Vasco said softly, more vulnerable than she had ever seen him before, and her hands slid up his hips and abdomen. She kissed his chest, nipping at the top of his pectoral, and her hands traced his sensitive sides. He shivered beneath her touch, completely at her mercy. Eloise leaned forward, tracing the lines of his tattoos with her tongue down and down until she was pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to his stomach, his navel; his breathing was quick now, and his cock was hardening against her belly as she pressed against him.

Eloise’s right hand fell to his cock, stroking the underside gently, and she relished in the hitching of his breath. Her mouth trailed over his hipbones, and she nipped playfully at the sensitive skin there, pleased by the coloring she could already see forming on his skin. Vasco bit back a gasp. She adjusted her grip on his cock and slowly began to stroke him in earnest, squeezing gently, and his legs spread just a little more to let her fit between them better. She kissed the tip of his cock, lips parted just enough for her tongue to tease him. He cursed softly under his breath and she had to force back laughter.

Vasco’s hands finally seemed to remember themselves and they were upon her suddenly, more possessive than they had been before; the fingers of his left hand spread over the side of her neck, thumb stroking over her pulse, and his right brushed over her jawline. She peered up at him, lips on his cock, and he was staring down at her. There was unfettered desire in his eyes, a want so intense she could feel it radiate off him. Her hand on his cock slipped down to curl around the root.

Eloise took his cock into her mouth properly now, careful to keep her teeth from his tender flesh, and flattened her tongue against the underside of him; Vasco _moaned_, a sound she felt deep in her bones, and it encouraged her to take more of him. There was little, she decided, in the world she liked more than stealing the words from Vasco’s tongue. Her head began to bob, up and down and back up, slowly and purposefully. She wanted to rile him up, get him so hard he could barely think of anything but her. And it seemed to work.

His fingers buried in her hair, almost tight enough to be painful (but, _no_, never quite so), and her free hand cupped his sack and gently rolled him between her fingers. “Eloise—_fuck_,” he choked back a sound. She sucked gently on his cock, then harder as his hips twitched; she wanted him to stop holding back, to pull sounds from him only she had heard. She looked back up to his face as she bobbed faster; his eyes were slightly glazed and his chest was almost heaving.

Her hand stroked in time with her movements, her tongue laving the underside of his thick cock; her mouth had to be open wide to accommodate his girth, and Vasco groaned deeply, pulling on her hair just a bit, and she sighed against him. He tugged again, a little harder, and she shivered, and then he stroked his fingers through her hair again. “I’ll not last long if you keep this up,” he panted, voice raspier than usual, and she pulled off him slowly, tongue circling the tip once more before popping off. Her lips were swollen, wet, and Vasco looked at her much like a hunter did the deer, “It’d be a shame to end this too early.”

“All too true, Captain.” Eloise let him go and leaned herself back up his body. His nose dipped to the crook of her neck; his hands coaxed her to stand from her knees, though they protested a bit as she did, and then she pushed him down onto the bed. She climbed atop him, settling herself on his stomach, his cock pressed against the curve of her ass.

Vasco’s hands slid up her body, touch hot against her bare flesh, and she felt that heat spread to her pussy. He leaned up, balanced on the bed now, and kissed her fiercely. It was unlike their previous kisses; it was hard, hot, and stole away her breath—his hand cupped her breast, thumb rolling over her nipple, and she made a soft sound into his mouth. He kneaded at her lower back with his other hand, her back arching when he dug in just enough to harden her nipples. “So responsive,” he muttered to himself, their lips barely apart, and she gasped as he leveraged his weight to roll her.

Vasco’s change in their positioning laid her out for him, her legs spread enough for him to settle between and he pressed down on her heavily; it was not unpleasant, the very opposite in fact. She reached up hold his face with both hands, a thumb brushing over his bottom lip, and she leaned up to press their foreheads together. The moment was tender, and telling. She cared for him so deeply it frightened her sometimes, and the way the pressed back against her touch told her enough too. “Vasco, I…”

“Aye, I know.” He said, voice so quiet she almost missed it, and whatever she had next to say was stopped by the hitching of her breath as he kissed along her jaw, sucking a mark between the corner of it and her earlobe. She shivered, gasping a bit, and he seemed to catch her reaction; his hand started to stroke up and down over her belly, settling her aflame with want. She needed him only a little _lower_. Vasco kissed down her throat, suckling at her pale flesh, and she knew wanted him forever.

Vasco’s hand moved back to her bust, stroking the underside of her breast, and she whimpered when his mouth found its way to her breast too. He paused for a moment at her sound, eyes narrowing just a bit, and then lapped at her nipple, tongue hot and wet as it circled over her areola. She moaned quietly, hands grasping at his shoulders, and he turned to the other, his nose brushing over her sternum as he moved his head. His other hand slid further down her belly and over her pubic bone; she stilled as his touch rolled over her inner thigh.

“Can I use my hands here?”

“_Please_,” she was breathless, and his fingers slid down to rub at her outer labia; her legs spread wider and his lips moved down her abdomen, down her belly, tongue dipping into her navel—Eloise whimpered again, “Vasco…” she moaned, his fingers spreading her folds, and he paused just as his appendages touched just where she wanted him to.

“Did you enjoy my cock that much for you to be this wet?” Vasco asked, a bit smug, and she laughed airily.

“I am usually wet when I am around you, Vasco.” Eloise purred back, voice cutting off to a sigh as his fingers started to move again. They spread her wetness around, through her inner folds and to her hood. “I have had quite a few…fantasies in places we have been.” It was a bit embarrassing to admit; she had thought of him many times, and often touched herself to those fantasies.

“Tell me about them.” He said, voice slightly strained, and he kissed across her lower belly, then down to the hollow of her thigh. Vasco’s fingers found her clit and pushed back the hood, the pad of his thumb pressed to the little nub, and circled it slowly. The effect was immediate. Eloise took in a sharp breath, arching a little, and she nodded at his request.

“_Oh_—mmm, I can tell you one or two,” she said shuddering as he pressed harder at her clit, “the most recent was a week ago, when we were in Wenshaveye. We stayed in an empty house the villagers lent us for our aid. There was a stone—uh, Vasco!” his mouth found her pussy, his tongue pressing playfully at her entrance, and she panted for breath; her blood was fire and she was unable to stop the rolling of her hips toward his face.

“Abusing our host’s belongings. Naughty lass.” His tongue slid deeply into her pussy and her thighs trembled. “Keep going,” Vasco said, voice edged with something needy. “What did I do in your fantasy?”

“You woke me from sleep, you kissed me, and you stripped me bare. You bent me over a stone alter and fucked me until I screamed,” she whined, fingers clutching to the bedsheets to keep her grounded. Telling him her fantasy was an added layer of pleasure to the feeling he laid upon her body. He had likely had the same sorts of thoughts, she knew that, but he got off on hers too. Vasco shuddered down his entire spine.

“I’d have made you cum at least once before I fucked you.” Vasco said, fingers switching places with his tongue. “Like I’m about to now.” His tongue circled her clit, hot and slightly rough on the sensitive flesh, and two fingers stroked into her cunt. She arched, legs spread, and she moaned as his fingers started to thrust in and out of her. His tongue pulled her clit into his mouth and he sucked on it gently; her hands flew from the sheets to his hair and threaded into the soft strands.

Eloise moaned, a soft little _‘oh-oh-oh’_ sound, twisting slightly on the bed. His tongue was maddening, clever and practiced, and he knew just how to touch her to please her; Vasco groaned against her, the vibration traveling through her, and his free hand lifted her right leg up and to the side a bit, fingers pushing at the back of her thigh. “_Vasco_, just—” she let out a sharp whine, “So close,” she was pleading now, grinding against his greedy mouth.

To his credit, Vasco only kept his pace, lapping at her clit and curling his fingers slightly. They shifted a little and then she saw stars; white hot pleasure shot through her as he pressed _just_ so inside of her. Her breathing became ragged gasps, and she cried out his name again as he sucked harder on her clit. Eloise felt the swell of her orgasm, a hot anticipation, and she clenched around his fingers. It built and built until it crashed over her, a wave of relief and pleasure, and she trembled as she was caught in its current, his touch working her through the aftershocks of her climax.

She barely noticed him pull away from her shaking body, but she felt cold without him a moment later. Eloise looked up at him blearily, pale eyes liquid moonlight, and he sighed out deeply, lips parting with it. “You look incredibly beautiful right now.” Vasco said, looking over her debauched form; she was panting, sweat on her brow, and she pulled Vasco by his hair, coaxing him up her body to claim his mouth. She could taste herself on his tongue, and his hands braced themselves on either side of her body.

Vasco’s hips settled below hers, his cock laid over her pussy. Even that slight contact made her gasp, sensitivity rushing through her body; he rolled his hips a few times, slowly, sliding through her wet folds but not trying to push into her. Eloise lifted her hips a little, trembling at the sharp pleasure. “Sweet talker.” She huffed playfully.

“It’s not a lie.” He said, one of his hands sliding down her waist, her hip, and then under her thigh. He lifted it and hooked her knee around his hip. “Is this what you want?” he asked, his angle changed and the tip of his cock pressed at her entrance.

Eloise nodded, “Yes. I want _you_, Vasco.” He began to slide into her pussy, slowly but steadily, and she moaned as she stretched deliciously to accommodate his thick cock. Vasco was not unaffected either, groaning loudly into the air as he sunk into her; he paused, rocked his hips back, and then thrust forward again, establishing a short rhythm as he began to fuck her. His cock moved easily, her cunt wet with her cum and arousal, and she buzzed with pleasure.

Vasco bottomed out and she clenched slightly, a sharp, gasping sound leaving her lips, and he growled into her ear as he pressed their bodies tightly together. “Easy now, we’re only starting.” He kissed the mark he had already left on her skin and they simply breathed together for a moment; Eloise basked in his presence, his scent, and his strong body against hers, and she relaxed. “I could listen to your sounds for hours. I’ve thought endlessly of what you might sound like crying my name.”

“Did I deliver on your hopes?” she rolled her hips, his cock sliding a little out of her and then back in. “I have certainly practiced it, alone in my bed.”

Vasco tightened his grip on her. “Exceeded them.”

“Oh, I do so aim to please—_yes_,” she grasped his upper arms as he pulled back his hips and began thrusting in and out of her, pace not quite hard but not gentle either. Her breasts jumped with each movement, and her other leg wrapped around him too. His left arm was down on the mattress beside her head, leaning on his elbow for leverage and support, and the other was keeping her thigh pressed to him; each stroke grew harder, lengthier, and she chased each of his thrusts with a matching roll of her hips.

Eloise’s hands wandered, palms sliding along the hard planes of muscle along his ribs, fingers following the raised lines of his tattoos—her fantasies had absolutely nothing on the real man above her; his hands were rough from years of work, catching on the silks of her bed, and his callouses were pleasant on her skin. He had worked hard, tirelessly, and for all the good he held, he rarely left any for himself. She arched against him, clutching to his back as he sent waves of heat through her.

Vasco was panting in her ear, stifling his groans and gasps, and her hands moved to grasp his ass, encouraging him closer. It simply would not do for him to reign in his desires; Eloise dug her nails into him. His body tensed, warmth washing over her neck as he let out a puff of air against her. “You’re an awful tease, you know that?” Eloise laughed, eyes crinkling, and she shrugged as best as she could, pinned beneath him.

“So I have been told! What are you going to do about it, Captain?” Vasco rolled his eyes at her antics, more than used to her clever tongue, and so he silenced her with his own. His tongue swept over her bottom lip, and she noted he could be as much of a tease as she was; Eloise had to bite back a sharp moan as he adjusted himself on the bed, his knees spreading farther apart and unhooking her ankles from the small of his back. Now in a better position, less atop her and more leaning above, he grasped her wrists and pulled her hands from him.

She bit his tongue, just hard enough to be a shock, but Vasco only shuddered and she shuffled that reaction to the back of her mind for later. His held her wrists for a moment, then pinned them on either side of her head, and he pulled his mouth from hers to trail it down to her shoulder, across her collarbone, and then up her arm and to her wrist. She might have been a put out that he had not responded to her teasing but she figured she had plenty of time to figure out just what sorts of phrases he would be unable to ignore.

All thoughts of mischief flew away, however, when his hips began to move again. His new angle was deeper, his movements harder, more controlled, and Eloise did not bother muffling the loud moan she felt build in her chest. Her neighbors might hear them, but she found herself caring less and less. Let them hear her, and let them be green with envy; it was not her fault they had no one to please them like Vasco pleased her.

“I’m sure I can figure something out.” He murmured, kissing the upturned palm of her hand, a gesture so tender it made her heart _ache_ with the weight of the affection it held for him. He tugged her hand up and she let him, eyes closing as she focused on the heavy slide of his cock into her; Vasco laid her hand over her pubic bone, her fingers barely brushing over the cleft of her folds, and he slid his hand off hers. His fingers rolled over her neglected clit and sighed, the sound needy even to her own ears, and she took the hint easily enough.

Eloise brushed his hand away and touched herself; she knew her body better than he did, after all, and she circled her clit with a thought in mind. She wanted to find her climax on his cock, whispering his name like a secret prayer, and Vasco released her other wrist so that both of his hands could grasp under her knees and press them upward, toward her chest, and she let a cry slip past her lips.

“Vasco!” he shuddered, groaning as she clenched around him, now unable to stop herself. What little control she had was rapidly fraying, threadbare to begin with, and the feeling of anticipation returned, that sensation of hot, hot, _hot_—she could heard how slick she was with each thrust, a wet sound emanating from between her thighs, and Vasco’s thrusts grew sloppier, quicker, driving her up the mattress until she almost met the headboard. She throbbed, writhing, and she slowed the circling of her fingers at her clit.

Her body was alight, a slow burning fuse, and said fuse was growing shorter and shorter by the second. Vasco tightened his grip on her, almost bruising, but she relished in the sensation. He was driving her to utter madness but there was a deep sort of satisfaction to the fact that she did the same to him. “Let me hear you,” he whispered, voice rough and thick in her ear, his hips slapping noisily against hers, and she started nodding in time with his thrusts.

“What should I—_Oh_—say?” she asked cheekily, despite how close the building pressure was, how quickly her anticipation was turning to realization, and she felt his chuckle reverberate through his chest. Of course there was no need for him to answer; he slowed his pace, cock sliding hard and purposefully into her pussy, and she felt pressure pushing, _pushing_— “Vasco, _Vasco_ please, just a little more.” She whined, thighs trembling as he held them up.

“Where do you want me?” he asked after a moment, one where she knew he was staring down at her, and she opened her eyes to gaze back at him.

“Anywhere but inside,” she laughed breathlessly, “I doubt we need any little Nauts toddling around just yet.” Vasco snorted, more than a little amused.

“Do you ever not joke?”

“My old professor calls it a ‘coping mechanism’. I believe I am simply hilarious at all times.”

Vasco shook his head, smiling in such a way that her heart fluttered, and she was reminded how much she cared for him. He released one of her thighs and grasped the solid wood headboard for leverage, and, _Gods above_, she cried out; her trembling increased tenfold, her pussy clenching around him, and the rolling, churning, desperate feeling below her navel tightened until she thought she might burst into the flames. Eloise threw her head back, she might have even screamed, but the only feeling she could focus on was the snapping tension, the release of pleasure that pulsed through her. It curled her toes and she bowed her back, her hand sliding away from her body as almost painful sensitivity set in.

He moaned, eyes traveling down her throat, her flushed chest; Vasco pulled out of her shaking body, hand stroking his cock quickly, his chest heaving with his pleasure. He came across her thighs and her belly, choking out her name softly, and then carefully rolled beside her, shuffling her legs off him. They panted, side by side, for a long moment. The room stank of sex and sweat and she barely cared about the sticky feeling across her skin as she bathed in the afterglow of their activities.

Eloise sat up, however, after she had caught her breath enough not to stumble as she began to shift toward the bed’s edge. Vasco caught her wrist before she could, a wrinkle between his brows, and she smiled fondly at him before leaning over to kiss him sweetly. “Fear not, my dear Captain, I only want to clean up a bit. I would rather not sleep in our bed like this,” her free hand gestured to his mess on her, “and make it dirtier than we have just made it.”

He released her, though obviously reluctant to do so, and she padded over to a small wash basin she kept filled with water. It was warm, having been unchanged since the last night she had spent in the room, and she took a wash cloth from the side of it and wet it. Eloise cleaned herself off, shivering at the cool air of the room, and wrung out the towel when she was done.

“Our bed?” he asked softly, as she laid the towel over a lacquered chair, and she looked over her shoulder at him, bemused. How he could think she would not want him every day after this was a mystery.

“I assumed you would be staying? I would be quite lonely without you, and the rooms at the tavern cannot be as…_comfortable_ as mine.”

“They are not.” Mirth bled into his tone. “I had hoped, but did not wish to overstep.”

“Silly sailor,” her eyes twinkled in the moonlight, “how could I not want you here?”

She returned to the bed grinning, and started pulling back the sheets, laughing when Vasco grumbled at her movements. Still, he obeyed her gestures for him to move under the covers and she slid under them too; Eloise draped herself over his chest, pleased when his arm curled around her almost automatically, and she leaned down to kiss him again, much more firmly now, less fervent than before and yet somehow more passionate. She broke away, warmed to her toes, and more than sure of her feelings for him. He gazed at her like a man enraptured, and she wondered which of them was more foolishly in love.

Eloise laid her head on his chest, ear pressed to his heart, and held him as tightly as he held her. There would be more to discuss come morning, confessions to make and her heart to lay bare, but tonight there was only the soft sounds of their breathing, the knowing moonlight between them, and that was more than enough as she closed her eyes to dream of the sea and sails.


End file.
